*ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!*
Thor. We need your help.
...There's beer on the ship.
You idiot. You absolute idiot.
Which one of us do you refer to by that, brother?
...Both.
What were you thinking? I couldn't defeat him. You? Absolutely not. You are the God of lies, you couldn't have just lied for a little while longer and lived?
Thor, I knew what I was doing. There was a chance-
NO! There was never a chance! It doesn't matter now anyway. Who's left to care?
Not Father. Not Mother. Not the warriors three, not Jane nor Heimdall, Erik the mad old scientist, not Darcy, even Brunhilde has given up on me.
Not you.
And apparently not you either.
Yes, no, not me. All I have is Korg and Mik, and this silly little mortal game. Though I'm still unsure of why the title is so inaccurately named 'Second week' or 'two weeks' or something as such. The mortal creator vastly underestimates how often it is played in this dwelling.
Thor, put down the bottle. Why would you do this to yourself? If you are to avenge me is there not a more... Heroic way to do it? It's a little insulting actually.
That's it though, Loki. Who is there who still cares? Why should I have to keep being a God when there is no-one to believe in me?
If I cannot convince you of my opinion, then I should hope that someday you find someone who can. But hear this: You are still worthy. Mjolnir knows it. Stormbreaker knows it. We all do, so get out of that stupid chair and go rescue some idiot in distress!
That chance passed five years ago, Brother, and I failed. You suffered because of it.
Well here's your second chance. Those mortal idiots are counting on you Thor.
I know.
What kind?
